Canvas of Red or Crimson Canvas
by Tucker Carroll
Summary: An unpublished early writing by the late author, 'Tucker Carroll'


CHAPTER 1

When I saw her, before I realized it was her, I couldn't believe how much this woman resembled my Lindsey. The wavy-auburn hair, full and slightly pouted lips. She was skinnier, quite a bit smaller really, but she wasn't big to begin with, just normal. This woman was thin, svelte; willowy even. Her arms and legs were rail thin, her cheek bones more prominent than the face that I'd recalled in a dream only a few nights before. Don't get me wrong, she was gorgeous, just not the impeccably perfect & soft body that I'd held in my arms so many times in years past. I didn't even consider that this look alike might actually be her – Lindsey and I made fun of women like that.

How they stand with their hips pushed forward and their lanky arms hanging next to their starving bodies. The way women like this dressed themselves in the most expensive clothing with hopes of making the sharp corners of their hips and shoulders seem fashionable. How they would choose clear liquor or a glass of wine over the appetizers served at gallery shows like this one. Saving calories – missing the nutrients that their skin and organs craved. This woman, now only 10 or 15 feet from me, was doing just that. Clinging to her wine glass and taking the smallest sips, she was going to make the one drink last all night.

I started to feel kind of strange for staring at her this long, I was examining her. She was beautiful, no denying that. Sad that this beautiful woman had tortured herself into this pale shell. My eyes gazed up her body, appreciating the shortness of the white dress she adorned that stopped just below the curve of her buttocks. For a moment I imagined what it would feel like to wrap my arms around her waist, to pull her against me, feel her breasts press against my chest, place a kiss on her neck, feel her lips on mine, look into her…

When my fantasy reached her eyes she was looking right at me, looking right into my eyes, and that is when I knew that this was no look alike. I had known that I would never be able to forget those piercing brown eyes from the moment I met her. She was unimaginably beautiful, anyone could see that, and why she chose to stop to talk to me at the university coffee shop seven years ago I will never know. I'd asked her once; we had woke up in my dorm room after spending the previous night making love. The morning sun was peaking in through the only window in my room, but like all other things in this world, it too was attracted to her face. I looked at her for a long moment, unable to understand why she would want to be with me, so I asked her why she stopped and introduced herself that day. She said it was because of what I was drawing, "It's not very often that a girl like me finds 6'3 guy in a Nirvana t-shirt and Ford cap sitting in a coffee shop drawing an Iris" She laughed, then kissed the corner of my mouth before rolling off of the bed and onto her feet, "A good drawing at that."

Yes, it was the original. The only woman that I had ever loved in my twenty-eight years. I looked away. I couldn't hold her gaze. After all this time she still intimidated me. With all the shit she had put me through. All the nights I searched for her. After she left, disappeared is a better word to describe it, I looked for her for almost an entire year. I called everyone we knew and either everyone lied or she really didn't tell them. I cried for her every night. Felt as if my soul had been forcefully pulled from my body. I stopped painting, I stopped drawing – what was the point? I'd invested my entire being in her and when she left, in a way, I left too.

I could feel her, she was still looking at me. Paying me back for the uncomfortable amount of time that I spent groping her with my eyes. My heart beat was out of control. I hoped beyond hopes that I wasn't turning red, prayed that I didn't begin to sweat from the overzealous heart in my chest. Did she like what she saw? Had I changed much since the last night we spent together? I shouldn't have worn this shirt – I never liked the way I looked in gray, oh God I shouldn't have worn these pants – black pants with a gray shirt – what was I going for? Was I trying to look depressed? Was I trying to look like I had no idea how to put clothes together? What was I thinking? I wasn't thinking that she would be here that's for sure! What was she doing here? Where had she been? Was she here with someone?

I looked back to see if she was standing close to anyone in particular, to see who she was talking with, but she was gone. Where did she go? Did I imagine her? Surely not. There is no way. In all of my hallucinations of her she still looks the same as she did years ago. Okay so where is she? Maybe she left? I was relieved for a moment with the idea that she left, then I felt crushed. She saw me, and then left. She left me again.

"Shane," I turned to see her standing only feet away from me. My throat nearly closed, I couldn't breathe. "How are you?"

_HOW AM I? Really? How am I? I'm destroyed, Lindsey! You destroyed me! I loved you, don't you understand that? I loved you! Looking at you now, I don't know, I may still love you. Why are you doing this to me?_ "I'm good, really good. You?"

She smiled, that was her answer. She smiled. How can someone exude such sex-appeal and make it look so natural and effortless. Like they don't know that they are doing it.

"I love these drawings…" Lindsey walked past me, looking at my art on display. "I can't believe you got into children's illustrations. It's a good fit, these are great."

"Thanks" I sounded shy, almost giddy. _Get ahold of yourself. Calm down. So she likes my drawings, big deal – she abandoned me. _

"I really liked what you did in 'A Sunshiny Day', congrats on your NEA award – I was so happy for you"

"Lindsey, I…"

"Did you stop painting to do this?" She looked at me, seemingly concerned.

The room was spinning, I don't know for sure that it wasn't the liquor, but I felt as if I might pass out. I stopped painting because of her, I stopped painting when she never came back. I'm sure you think I'm being dramatic – tortured artist thing to do, right? You're wrong. I am a normal guy. I grew up in a middle class suburb outside of Boston. Played football & baseball, a little rugby even. Went to UMass on a Football scholarship… normal American Male. I guarantee you I am not being overly dramatic. If you feel like I am it's only because you've yet to experience the emotional flood of the kind of love Lindsey and I shared… or I thought we shared, turned out it was one sided. She did leave me, ya know.

"Yea, I uh, I haven't painted since…"

Again, she interrupted; clearly she wasn't ready to talk about anything that could bring up what happened between us. "You're doing so well in this genre, but you have a painter's soul."

_I have no soul, thanks to you._

She walked up to me, standing close. My skin burned for her touch. "Lindsey, you…"

"Shane," Lindsey smiled, nearly whispering my name as she tilted her head to the side a bit and looked up at me, "I've really missed you" I felt her fingers slip between mine and it happened. I wanted her all over again. I'd forgiven her. I fell in love with Lindsey for the second time.

I must have looked confused, or hurt, or mad, or something negative because she quickly let go of my fingers. Immediately, I felt cold and used… I began to hunger for her.

"How are your parents?" _Nice change of subject_

"Okay, I guess," I swallowed, my mouth dry. "Dad is retiring next month… Mom passed away about a year ago." This was a heavy night. I hadn't talked about my mom's death in months… in one span of about ten minutes my heart broke again for my Mom and again for Lindsey.

"I heard," _She heard? How did she hear? Had she been keeping up with me?_ "I wanted to come to the funeral, but I… I wasn't sure you'd want me there" Those oak brown eyes looked so sad. I wanted to hold her and tell her I forgave her the moment she spoke my name.

"Of course I would've, Lindsey" I reached for her hand and lifted it to my mouth, kissing the top of her fingers.

"I'm so sorry, Shane" She placed her hand on my face, stroking my cheek once with her thumb.

I wondered if she was apologizing for more than not coming to my mother's funeral. I hoped she was.

Coming back to reality, she pulled her hand from my face, almost too quickly. At first, I tried to convince myself that it was because of all the people. These were our colleagues… my colleagues at least, I'm not sure what she'd been doing with herself all this time. Maybe her boss was here, she'd always wanted to work in an art gallery and this little side walk shop in SoHo seemed like the perfect kind of environment for her. Or maybe it's too fast, I thought. I shouldn't have kissed her hand, shouldn't have mentioned something as serious as my mom's death. With the alcohol, the dim lights, and the Ray LaMontagne soundtrack to the night… it was easy to move too fast.

She'd moved back, further away from me, turned her back to me and began to look at my seven pieces of work that were forming the half circle booth we were taking shelter in. Looking at her, I could see her lying naked in my arms, I could see her legs intertwined with mine, I could imagine what her hair would feel like in my fist as I kissed her mouth. I can feel my jealousy rising. I was not jealous of anyone in particular, but of the entire room because at this point I have just as much right to claim her as they do. That's right, I said claim her. Not like the Spanish claimed Florida, but to call her mine. To say I can touch her because she's mine. To her, I'm really no more special than any other person in the gallery, in the city… that's why I'm jealous.

Probably a guy thing to want to have some sort of right to a woman like her. My guess is it goes back to the prehistoric days when cavemen would take a club to the head of the woman he wanted, drag her knocked-out body back to his cave and viola, they were married. Obviously, I can't club her, nor would I ever consider it. But I must admit that it seems like it would be easier back then… when she said she was leaving I could have clubbed her and took her back to the cave.

"How is Emily?" The combination of Lindsey's voice and hearing Emily's name shattered my wandering thoughts.

If it weren't for Emily, I probably would have pulled the "tortured artist" card and killed myself. Slit my wrists and bled out in the floor of my loft surrounded by my failed attempts at painting. But Emily kept me going. She speaks and my heart would float from the depths of hell to a more manageable pain. Emily smiles and my lungs remember that they are supposed to breathe even if Lindsey is gone. Emily is too innocent for me to rest all of my ache upon, so I never shared with her the dull pain that resides in every fiber of my body, from my fingernails to my spine I hurt, but when I am with Emily I can forget, and I can smile with her.

"She's amazing…" I smile, telling Lindsey that Emily is amazing makes me proud. Besides, it's the only honest thing I said to Lindsey all night. I'm not good, I tried to paint right after she left, I wouldn't have wanted her at the funeral because I know my heart would have stopped beating from the misery. But, Emily is amazing… the word doesn't even do her justice. She is my saving grace.

I cannot see her face, but Lindsey's shoulders seem to tense with my reply. I have no sympathy for Lindsey when it comes to Emily, so I do not ask or try to figure out why she'd have such a reaction.

"You look beautiful" Another honest statement from me.

She looks at me over her shoulder, somewhat coy, I think. "Yea?"

I nod my head, hopefully not too enthusiastically.

"I feel so skinny." I wonder if she means it, or if this is a way to get me notice her new slenderness.

"You are"

"Too skinny?" She turns to face me and wrinkles up her nose a bit.

"Maybe, but you are still beautiful" I am proud of my honesty. I could have lied in attempts of flattering her enough to get her to want to go home with me.

"Ugh!" She acts hurt and tosses her hair back with a laugh.

"What? You asked!" I smile. Does she know that she's wrapping me around her finger with every passing second?

"Well, you look very nice. Really like the gray shirt on you," Lindsey walks back to me and stands much closer as if she is inspecting my eyes "makes your eyes look like they are back-lit by some kind of flame… such cobalt eyes" she places her hand lightly in the center of my chest.

I'm stunned by her close proximity, like a deer in headlights I cannot move. All I can see is her chocolate brown orbs locked with mine. Her eyes begin to close and the anticipation of feeling her lips on mine tightens my lungs. I open my mouth just a bit, I want to taste her.

"You smell good too" She says slowly, a quite whisper, "I've always loved your smell, Shane" She's hesitating, her eyes open again. _Please don't stop, please continue._

Pulling back a couple of inches breaks the tension we were sharing. With the addition of just a few inches we are no longer about to kiss; now we're just standing in front of each other. Funny how such a small amount of space can make such a huge difference.

I get angry – she's playing me.

"What are you doing? What are you doing _here_?" I ask quietly, sternly.

Her brow furrows a bit, as if she's unsure why I'm getting mad.

"Lindsey!" A voice calls from behind me; a male voice.

I can read the guilt all over her face.

The man calling her name is old enough to be my dad. For a moment there is a glimmer of hope left in my mind. He walks up to us, not even looking at me, as if I wasn't standing there, and he puts his arm around Lindsey's shoulders.  
My blood boils beneath the skin. My body temperature soars and I want nothing more than to take that arm off of her shoulder and break it into pieces for touching her. 

"Where've you been, darling? I've been looking for you all over" He says into her ear.

_Yea, me too_

"Glenn," Lindsey cuddles into his body and I consider throwing up on them. _What kind of a name is Glenn?_ "This is Shane Gatley"

Glenn puts his hand out to me – I want to stare at it in disgust, but I'm too well-mannered. I shake his hand. "He's an old friend from college"

"NYAA Alum!" Glenn was still shaking my hand, old fucker. "That is such an impeccable University. Graduated in '81 myself"

_NYAA… New York Academy of Art? Uh no… University of Massachusetts. And I was born in 1981 ._

I look at Lindsey, her eyes seem to be pleading for me to go along with it. She'd always wanted to go to NYAA, but like me, UMass was the best she could do because of the tuition. Why she's always longed to be something she wasn't had been a puzzle to me. I can remember her lying to our friends about her past, even with me sitting there knowing the truth. She was just a poor kid from Alabama. Her mom died when she was 17 and her dad worked at a factory. She was an only child and a very talented artist. Her lies could go from her family being wealthy to spending summers in Africa with a church missionary… all lies. It was all meant to make her normal, boring life seem more "spicy". I never felt that she needed any lies to improve upon herself or her story… to me she was perfect in all ways.

"Yea." I say back bluntly… will he ever stop shaking my hand?

"That's just great, Shawn" Glenn smiles – _those have to be dentures._

"Shane" Lindsey and I say at the same time.

I'm not sure how to take this – I'm an old friend? Not her ex-fiancé? I'm not the man she lost her virginity to? I'm not the guy that painted her into immortality? I think I am… the painting still hangs in the UMass Arts building and I'm pretty damn sure my name is scribbled at the bottom of the canvas. But, I'm an old friend. We were friends?

Glenn finally lets go, turns to Lindsey and places his hands on her shoulders, ignoring that he called me Shawn. "May I speak with you for a moment, please darling"

"Yes, okay" Lindsey smiles and they walk a few feet away.

I down the rest of my tonic and glare at them. Who is this guy? He's wearing a dark brown suit – a very expensive dark brown suit – with a peach shirt and white tie. This guy is at least 60, white hair and all. But you can tell he has money. Just look at those shoes and you'll know. He might as well have his checking account balance written across his back.

As they speak, Lindsey looks over at me a few times. She must know that I think this is ridiculous. She lifts her wine glass to her mouth and that's when I see it. How could I have missed such a huge fucking diamond? You could use that thing as a saucer! It's so big it's almost comical… it's like one of those ring pops I used to eat as a kid.

My eyes feel wet, she's engaged to that dinosaur – please don't let me cry, I pray.

Lindsey smiles at Glenn and begins to walk back over to me. Quickly, I turn in the opposite direction to wipe my eyes just in case.

"Shane, sweetie…" Is she using some sort of Upper East Side accent all of a sudden? "I must be going, but it was so good to see you." Yes, she is! What the hell?

She takes my card from the table in of my booth and stops in front of me for a moment. "Can we get together soon?"

CHAPTER 2

I woke up the next morning to the sound of Emily's laugh drifting into my room. She was in the living room, probably drawing. My head was pounding and my eyes burned as they opened to the sun-filled room. Imagine the worst hangover you've ever had, add a good dose of depression and you can probably imagine how I felt. Sleeping had been a chore. The images of this new Lindsey were burned into my eye lids. Kind of like when you stare at a bright light, then look away to find that black silhouette covering everything. That's what happened, I stared at Lindsey too long and now my vision is blocked.

I didn't shower when I got home; just kissed Emily, thanked God for her, and got in bed. Now, in the morning light, I am lost as to what to do. Should I tell Emily about Lindsey? Of course she knows about her, but do I tell her I saw her? Do I tell her that she's engaged, but at one point our mouths were but centimeters apart?

Emily hasn't seen her mom since she left, hasn't heard from her either. But Emily was only 7 weeks old when Lindsey disappeared. I don't even think she misses her, or knows to miss her. Things aren't like they were when I was a kid – a lot of kids only have one parent, either a mommy or a daddy. Emily just happens to have just a daddy, just me. At least that's how she explained it to my sister, Keri, after asking her if she had a mommy.

Keri didn't know what to think, so she said, "Of course, do you want to see her?" Emily just kept on coloring and said "No, I just have Daddy, and Gracie has just a Mommy"

Gracie is Keri's eight year old daughter. I can understand why this seems normal to Emily. She's never known anything else. The problem is that I have. I know what it's like to have a mom and dad, a united front to keep you from screwing up. That infallible safety net that all children deserve to have. The guilt that I feel for not being enough to keep Lindsey with us is overwhelming… my first and most essential failure as her dad.

As I sat up on the side of my bed, the door cracked open just a bit to allow Keri's voice to enter the room without being muffled. "Are you up?"

"Yea" I grunted, then cleared my throat.

"Just wanted to make sure" Keri opened the door the rest of the way, "You need to get ready. You and Emily need to leave here in an hour to make it to that pre-school interview."

Ah, shit! I had totally forgotten.

Another good reason why Keri and Gracie lived with Emily and me. Sometimes Keri could be a lot to deal with, and as much as I loved Gracie, that girl was loud – but all the good things that came along with having Keri & Gracie in our home greatly outweighed the annoying ones. Keri was a younger version of my mom, so having her here to help with Emily was a life saver. I was overwhelmed only a few weeks after Lindsey left and my mom suggested Keri and Gracie stay with us for a bit. That quickly turned into a semi-permanent thing. Especially after my career took off. I say took off, I mean got started. Sure, I'd rather be a famous painter – selling my pieces for $50,000 plus, but a man's gotta do what a man has to do, so I illustrate children's books for $80k a year. It pays the bills and it's an honest living that lets me be home with Emily. I travel a bit here and there, but Keri is here to keep Emily and everything works out fine.

Chapter 2

"Good morning, Daddy" Emily smiles from the floor of the living room, why she preferred to color on the hard wood floor instead of a table or desk I'll never know. "Did you have a good gallery?"

"I did" I chuckle a bit at how proper she spoke.

Gotta be the $1000 a month daycare.

She only goes a couple days a week, when Keri has things to do or just wants a break from child care, but the teachers have been a huge help in socializing her. When she was younger, she was terribly shy and clung to me for dear life around everyone else but Keri & Gracie. Emily didn't talk much; she would color a lot, but having a conversation seemed hard for her, that is, before her time at the daycare.

"Did you make any money for us?" She asked as she raised herself off of the floor and onto her feet without using her hands, as they were full of her latest "works" as she called them.

I looked to Keri who was cleaning up after Gracie's before-school breakfast. She shrugged, unsure what Emily was talking about, but finding amusement in the conversation about finances between me and my 4 year old daughter. I pushed Emily's wavy auburn hair aside and kissed her cheek - warm and still soft from the baby-fat filling.

"It wasn't that kind of show, it was because of that award I won" I explained as she sat her papers down in front of me and turned to climb onto my lap. She pushed my coffee cup away in order to display her colorings to me.

"Oh yea!" Emily smiled up at me, then turned back to the drawings. "So, what do you think?"

I looked at the sheets of paper in front of me. To anyone else I am sure they would've just been the scribbles of a four year old, but to me they were truly artwork. I told her that they were great and that I loved her usage of colors - Emily liked it when I talked to her like she had heard the illustration buyers speak to me. She began to explain what each coloring was and why she drew it. I couldn't pay attention, my thoughts were overwhelmed with my encounter with Lindsey.

She was getting married to that old man… she was getting married to a guy named Glenn! My Lindsey appeared to have morphed into the kind of woman I despised. Had she always been the gold digging trophy wife kind? Was the time she spent with me just a fling before taking her place in the line of young women waiting for their geriatric Mr. Right to sweep them off of their Minolo Blonik heeled feet? If so, she did a great job acting as if she too was repulsed by those types.

Emily was already talking about something else and I made sure to smile, nod, and laugh where it was appropriate. She looked so much like her mother. She even had some of her gestures - like using a smile as an answer. If Lindsey ever got to know Emily, I was sure she'd regret what she was doing and come home to us. As sure as I was, the tiniest doubt kept me from spilling the news about seeing her mother. Crushing the hopes of a grown man is one thing - I wouldn't let Lindsey break Emily into pieces the way she'd broken me.

By ten o'clock we'd both managed to get dressed and out of the door, waiting for a cab in front of my Brooklyn brownstone. Buying this place was a dream come true for me. After Lindsey left, I couldn't afford the loft we'd shared in Little Italy for long, so I moved five month old Emily and me into a two bedroom apartment in Queens. It was a terrible neighborhood, and the rent was still sky high compared to Boston, but if I was going to find work as an artist, New York was the place to be. I'd spend my day's at home with Emily - drawing and painting while she napped or played with her toys in the floor. Once she was in bed for the night, Keri was home from work and I'd be on my way to work at The Met. For eight hours a night I'd clean, arrange, repair, move, and do just about anything else the janatorial manager would ask of me. I'd be home by three AM for Emily's middle of the night feeding, then up again by seven AM. My days went like that for about 2 years. When I was contracted as a illustrator by my first publishing house, I continued to work at The Met a bit longer - only to ensure that this paying gig would last. Once I was sure it wasn't just a passing thing and that the editors approved of my work, I quit and had my first full nine hours of sleep since Emily was born... she was 26 months old. After my first big paycheck for my children's illustrations in one of Madonna's books, I decided that we needed something normal. We didn't have a mom, but we were still a family.

My mother was with me when I found this place - the way she commented about the beautiful amenities; like the European street lights and the large maple trees that lined the street, and the hand-sanded hard wood flooring throughout the house; along with how she ran her fingers up the concrete banister leading to the front door, were all major factors in why I chose this place. It's 4 bedrooms, with a den, and 2 bathrooms. No view of anything, nothing to remind you that you're really surrounded by sky scrappers & ganglands. A tiny little piece of suburbia - the only normal thing I could provide to my tiny little daughter.

"Are you sure this looks okay?" I asked Emily, unsure about the dark jeans, white button up, and brown sports coat that I had picked out in hurry.

"You look very handsome, Daddy" Emily smiled at me and took my hand, "Besides it's me that will be going to the school!"

"Well, in that case" I picked her up and hugged her before resting her on my hip "we're good, because you are beautiful from head to feet!"

Emily giggled and laid her hand on top of my head "I know that, silly!"

The interview went great. By the end, I'd signed the admissions papers, paid her tuition for the fall semester beginning in 3 months, and promised a few drawings for display. Manhatten was really nice, and even though the school was a good distance, I could tell it was going to be a great place for Emily. They had a huge art program that included music, as well as visual arts. Beginning in 2nd grade, the entire school was conducted in French. Lindsey's mother was an immigrant from France and I wanted Emily to learn more about her heritage from her mom's side. Keri thought I was crazy for wanted her to learn a forign language, especially one that I myself couldn't speak, but it was important to me that Emily know as much about Lindsey, even if she would never know her.

As we rode back to Brooklyn, I was in a daze while Emily slept peacefully in my lap. New York was a beautiful city, but Boston was still my home. Someday I'll move Emily and me back to Boston - I'll teach her about the Red Sox Curse and explain the whole Irish vs. Italian history. As I planned out what our new Boston home would look like, I was pulled from my daydream by the shiver of my phone.

616-752-5723

I considered letting it go to voicemail, but since it was a Manhattan area code I thought better of it since it could be the Kindergarten needing something more - another signature perhaps - and I'd hate to have to come all the way back.

"Hello"

"Shane?" I stopped breathing. "Hey, it's me, Lindsey"

"Oh hey!" I tried to keep my voice calm as not to wake Emily and not sound too desparate and excited. "What's going on?"

"I wanted to call you. I was really afraid that you were upset with me about last night..." She sighed, "about Glenn and everything"

"No, no I'm fine... I figured you'd moved on" I lied, I was heartbroken. Seeing her with Glenn, ENGAGED to Glenn, was just another reminder that I wasn't enough for the woman of my dreams. Somehow I'd been paired with a soulmate who I was not sufficient for.

Lindsey was quite for a moment, "Have you moved on?"

Is that remorse in her voice? Is she dreading to hear the answer to this question? Was that a sorrowful tone?

"I'm not engaged, if that's what you mean" I chuckled a bit, not sure what she wanted to hear from me. Of course she saw how she had me lusting for her last night.

"Oh yea, I mean," Lindsey laughed nervously, "You're probably going to think I'm totally crazy and I wouldn't blame you if you just hang up on me, but I couldn't sleep last night... All I could think about was you. I didn't realize how much I... I, you know, um... I miss you, Shane."

I tensed my body as she spoke - every blood vessel in my body nearly burst with excitement - my rigidness disturbed Emily's sleep a bit and she tosseled a moment in my arms so I stayed silent until she was calm again. This brief moment gave me time to process what Lindsey was saying. It also made Lindsey feel as if she needed to explain, before I could respond, Lindsey spoke again, but this time it was almost a fast ramble.

"I hope you don't hang up, but like I said I would understand... I mean, I am engaged to Glenn. I just want you to know that when I saw you across the room last night I knew that I still loved you. Then after we talked, and nearly kissed, I couldn't just let that be our last encounter because you deserve better... you deserve to know that I know leaving like I did was a mistake. I wish it would have never happened. I guess I just want you to know that I am sorry."

The smile on my face was so big that my face muscles were hurting. My eyes were welling up with tears of joy. I'd waited so many years to hear her say just those words. I'd waited and hurted and longed for her and now, in this moment riding in a cab through a rainy New York City street, my pain was no more. I heard her take a deep breath, as if she were about to start again so I interrupted -

"Lindsey, I miss you too" I laughed, unable to contain the joy that I felt. Lindsey laughed too, from relief I imagined. Lindsey hated confrontation, and wasn't great at apologizing even when she knew she was wrong. Calling me this way must have been very difficult for her to do. "I'm so glad you called!"

"Me too!" She replied, "Are you free tonight? I'd really like to see you again."

We agreed to meet for a late lunch at a hotel bar just off of Times Square since she was working in that area and it wasn't too far from me. I barely had time to get Emily in the door and turn right back around and get in the cab. Still unsure about the jacket, I tossed it in the foyer before kissing Emily bye and telling Keri that I had an emergency meeting to go to. I don't know why I lied. I'm sure she saw right through it, after all, how many emergencies can occur that require the artist to attend a last minute meeting? Did the main character change from a rabbit to a gopher? Was the setting now the farm instead of the city? Were we leaning more towards pale versus bright colors? All of this could be shared via email or with a quick phone call. Either way, that's what I said and at that point she had no reason to question me.

Walking in Times Square, knowing that in a short period of time I'd be with Lindsey and that she wanted me too made everything new again. The colors of the huge flat screens hanging 10 stories above the flowing crowd was as bright as the sun. Sounds, though they were the usual city soundtrack, were passing through my ear drum like an orchestra. The concrete was a beautiful gray, no longer dull, but rich like the gray you'd see in the cloud covered sky just before a storm bursts over a flat corn field in Missouri. The closer I got to the Crowne Plaza lounge, sidewalks felt like they were made of cashmere and the air tasted of cinnamon instead of piss and engine exhaust. When the neon letters of the sign for the hotel lounge came into view, I tried to imprint them in my memory – Broadway 49 – my own version of 'Rick's Cafe Americain" from Casablanca. Broadway 49 would be where our love story was renewed. Stepping in the door, I knew I was ready. I'd been waiting for so long.

CHAPTER 3

WOW, the place was really nice. I mean, I expected it to be nice since it was in Times Square and a huge tourist trap, but this place was NICE - the kind of place one would go to see and be seen. The floors were a dark hardwood and there were large square pillars of the same dark brown throughout the lounge. Decorated in a very modern fashion; the cream colored seats and brown leather chase loungers with orange and brown decorative pillows looked nice, but I could tell it wasn't meant for comfort. Surprisingly, the place was kind of empty. I scanned the room – a few businessmen were at the bar, and there were 2 separate groups of women, _those types of women,_ surrounded by shopping bags and sipping wine and brightly colored cocktails in martini glasses. One guy in a hoodie and ripped jeans was sitting near the floor to ceiling windows and typing on a laptop, he was still wearing sunglasses so I imagined that he was either trying to look cool for one or more of the ladies I mentioned earlier, or he was famous and trying to look cool for the ladies.

I was a bit disappointed that Lindsey wasn't already there, checking my watch – I was right on time. Deciding that standing at the door waiting on her would make me look like a loser, I went over to the bar and ordered a bottle of Guinness from the pissy looking bartender. The dead bar probably wasn't going to turn out too many tips for him this afternoon, especially with his shitty attitude, but I was pleasantly surprised with my beer. Bad attitude or not, he poured a good glass of beer – perfect amount of head. There is something about the look of a great beer in a frosty glass, its almost as enticing as looking at a beautiful woman. It can easily cause a lot of the same types of reactions from the male body – the rush of excitement before the first taste, the watering mouth, and pride when you're holding it in your hands. Like I said, I'm a regular American Male.

I took a drink, it was as good as it looked, then headed over to one of the empty tables near the windows. Sitting with a single table between me and the sunglasses kid, I was trying to figure out if he was a celebrity when Lindsey called out to me. Instantly a smile covered my face as I looked towards the entrance – where was she?

"Shane, over here!" Lindsey laughed and waved her arm in the air so I could spot her. She was with the group of women sitting closest to the bar "I didn't even see you come in!" Was she using that accent again?

Confused, I thought it would be just me and her, I left my beer on the table and walked over to the women. Lindsey came to meet me half way. She had her hair in a low pony tail, square diamond earrings, and a full face of makeup as if she were ready for a party. She looked really nice, mature but nice. Not like the blue jean & tee-shirt girl that I remembered. I noticed that the golden brown, ¾ length sleeved sweater she wore hung perfectly over her breasts and went well with the close-cut dark brown slacks. Slacks on Lindsey seemed weird, too uptight almost.

"Hi Sweetie" Lindsey smiled and hugged me, like we'd never missed a beat, like we didn't have a 4 year gap that closed only the night prior. "So glad you could make it, let me introduce you to my girlfriends." Lindsey looped her right arm with my left and walked me to the table. I don't know why I was so quite, I guess I was unsure what this was about. She named three of the women, then said "And this is Ashley Morgan" as if I should know Ashley Morgan, or like that was supposed to mean something to me.

"Hi, I'm Shane Gately" I said to the group – pretty sure my brow was furrowed and a blank expression was on my face.

They all started to talk – basically it was "we've heard so much about you", "you and Linds go way back", "You're accent is adorable", and "you're so tall!"

I looked at Lindsey who was glowing, this was the kind of attention that she loved. A bunch of well-to-do women gushing over what is hers. "And he won the 2009 NEA award, he's a wonderful artist" Lindsey added. That set the flock off again. I was ready to go... this was obviously not my scene. Quietly, I asked "Are you ready to go?"

"GO?" Lindsey blurted with a laugh, "No way! Happy hour is just getting started, silly! Sit!" She patted the empty seat between her and Ashley, so I sat.

The women began to ask me questions, but Lindsey would answer before I could begin to form a word in my mouth. After a few minutes, the waiter brought me a new beer and I sat back and let the women talk. Half way through the glass of Guinness, I decided this wasn't too bad really. Maybe this was how Lindsey wanted to start off – slow and in public as not to rush things. Besides, I had a great view of her from where I was sitting and even though the table conversation was lacking, I could always look at her.

"Bored?" The woman on my other side of me, who's name I'd forgot, leaned over to me and asked in a loud whisper.

"Well, yea." I smiled politely, "Kind of"

_Ashley! That's her name!_

"It probably won't last much longer. Just hang in there!" Ashley placed her hand on my leg for a moment. I wondered if Lindsey saw that and if she would care that this friend of hers kind of made a move on me.

"You know, Shane" Lindsey was suddenly looking right at me. "Ashley used to be an art teacher at a school in Rhode Island.

_Okay? So._

"Oh yea? That's.., nice" I replied

"You guys actually have a lot in common, ya know." Lindsey continued, "She visited Boston over the summer as a teenager, right Ashley"

"Oh yea, it's really beautiful there" Ashley smiled, and turned her head to the side a bit, letting her shoulder length dark blonde hair fall around her face.

_WOW, she's really flirting with me._

"Yea, it's home, ya know"

"Ashley tell him about you're tattoo!" One of the other ladies chimmed in and everyone laughed, I pretended to laugh since I didnt know why that was funny.

"OH my gosh, no way!" Ashley ran her hand through her hair and leaned her body against my side. I stiffened. Surely Lindsey noticed!

Lindsey stopped laughing for a moment and added with a smile "Why? If you guys hit it off he'll see it anyway!" Again, a roar of laughter.

_If we hit it off? What was she talking about? Was this a set up? _

Lindsey invited me here to meet a girlfriend of hers that she thought I'd be interested in? Was she confused or something? I couldn't believe this! She didn't want me, she wanted her friend to have me. I was a cast off!

My anger nearly boiled over and my body was close to over heating as I quickly stood up and abruptly walked to the bar. "Bartender!" I was going to pay for my 2 beers and get away from her. He didn't hear me so I called again just as Lindsey came up to me.

"Shane? What's the matter?" She sounded so innocent.

I couldn't hold it in – I wouldn't. "What's the matter? Really?" I take a twenty dollar bill out of my wallet and toss it on the bar. "You call me and tell me you've missed me and want to see me... was that code for I want you to fuck my girlfriend?"

Her face twinges a bit as if my words hurt her, I was angry and didnt care. "Shane, no I didnt mean that."

"What didnt you mean, Lindsey? HUH?"

She didnt respond and I wouldn't wait for her to come up with an excuse so I turned and walked away leaving her standing there at the bar.

Walking out of the double glass doors into the city was like jumping into a pit of acid. The sunlight burned my eyes and the rancid smell of New York City made me want to hurl. My heart was beating so hard that my watch was shaking with every beat. I walked with long, purposeful steps. I had to get out of this place. Just before I turned the corner I heard her yell for me. Something in her voice made me stop. "What!?" I yelled. My voice was rough and deep and drowning in anger.

"Please Shane!" Lindsey was walking as fast as she could, her arms crossed. "I'm sorry!"

"Yea right, you're sorry. I've heard this before!"

When she made it up to me I thought she would stop but instead she walked right into me, wrapping her arms around my neck and nuzzling her face in the curve of my chest. It was a reaction, something I couldn't stop – I hugged her body tightly and stood up straight, lifting her off of the ground and feeling every inch of her against me.

"I am so sorry," She whispered into my ear, "let me explain."

I held onto her for a bit longer, probably longer than I should have. It had been so long since my body had felt the surge of electricity that occurred when she touched me, it was hard for me to let it go... not knowing when or if I would ever get to feel that surge ever again. Finally, I sat her down on her feet and released her. I could feel my nervous system power down.

"Glenn is powerful, Shane!" Lindsey folded her arms across her chest.

"Powerful?" I smirked at the thought of that lanky old man being powerful; I could snap him into. "What, is he like in the mob?" I regretted how sarcastic that sounded as soon as the words left my mouth.

Lindsey shook her head, "No, of course not! He's very wealthy and he has lots of friends and they are all powerful men because of their jobs and the weight of the money. I can't just meet my ex-fiance at a hotel bar! He'd find out about it for sure."

"What the hell, Lindsey?" I threw my hands into the air, "Am I supposed to be like your affair or something?"

"I can't just end it with him!"

"Why? Why not? If you want to be with me, then be with me! What does he have to do with anything!?"

Lindsey smiled.

"What?!" I demanded

"It's just that, well he is invested in..." She cleared her throat, "Last night... The gallery is mine. He bought it for me." Lindsey took my hand. I can't just bail on him after this. He's really helped give my career a jump start. I just feel like I owe him more than that."

_Glenn bought her a gallery... how could I compete with that?_

"So what then?" Still holding her hand, I pulled her closer to me, then rested our clasp hands on the small of her back. I loved the way she looked when she was looking up at me. "What are we then?"

"I just need some time, I'll tell him." She stood on her tip-toes and kissed my cheek, let go of my hand and took a step backwards. Reaching into her back pocket, she pulled out a plastic card the size of a credit card. "Room 433," she smiled at me in a way that made my veins tighten and my stomach flutter, "Give me 15 minutes?"

I didn't look up, I didn't look around at all – I turned my back to the room as soon as I entered the hotel suite and gently closed the heavy wooden door. Keeping my hand on the brass knob, I slowly led it back to its neutral position. I hoped not to make much noise... I didn't want to alert the universe to my being in the hotel room of an engaged woman. This was wrong. I knew it. Being here, wanting her the way I want her, imagining the things that I was imagining – it was all wrong according to societies standards, but what did they know. They didn't understand how much I loved her or how much I needed her. No one could ever conceive the way the fibers of my body were magnetically pulled to hers. It still did not make this right, and I wanted to keep it a secret from the universe the best that I could.

When I heard the doors automatic lock click, I prayed for forgiveness of the sins that my mind was craving, then turned around. Lindsey was watching me, leaning against the big marble topped desk that was against the rooms large window. The heavy curtains were pulled to, but the daylight was peeking in from the edges – a glowing square of light framing the woman that held my soul in her hands.

"Hey" I said bluntly – more like a statement than a greeting.

She smiled... I wanted her

We stood like that for a few moments, twenty feet away from each other, both of us unsure what to do or how to proceed with this meeting. The golden brown sweater she'd been wearing in the lounge was tossed on the end of the bed. I wondered to myself why she'd taken it off, and if the cream colored silk tank top had been under the sweater, or if she'd put it on specially for me. Her body beckoned me, called to me like mystical sirens to delirious sailors.

"I'd give my life to touch you, Lindsey" I knew that she could hear the desire in my voice. I couldn't hide it.

Lindsey looked me in the eyes and her smile softened "You don't have to"

My mind shut down and my heart took over and I quickly closed the distance between us. I didn't mean to be so forceful, but I wanted her so badly that I couldn't control myself. I pulled her body against mine and kissed her hard. Slipping my tongue into her mouth and tasting her saliva only made my uncontrollable want worse. Filling the crave for her taste, a craving that I'd feigned over for so long now was like an addict getting a hit. My heart beat slowed and my lungs felt as if they were no longer out of sync with the rest of my body. We kissed for a long while. My hands cupped her face, holding the most decadent treat gently in my hands as we explored each others mouths. Quiet, nearly soundless moans would escape her from time to time, encouraging me, letting me know that she enjoyed it as much as I did.

Once my taste buds were satisfied, my body wanted more of her. I pushed her against the desk – she knew what I wanted and seemed happy to progress Grabbing her ass with both hands, I lifted her just a bit and slid her on the table top. Her legs immediately spread, my body filled the opening and she ran her hands through my dark hair then guided my mouth to her neck. She'd always loved it when I kissed her neck, the curve of her shoulders. The moans were getting a bit louder now, egging me on.

"I love you, Shane" Lindsey whispered.

Hearing those words set me off. I had to have her. I pulled away from her and looked into her eyes to make sure I wasn't imaging this. She understood - "I love you" repeating it to me, knowing the power those three words held when directed from her to me. Lindsey smiled, then grazed her hands down my torso and began to unbuckle my belt and jeans. I was ready for her and I'm sure she could see my eagarness even before she'd unfastened the zipper.

I made love to her right there on the desk – it was dirty and naughty and wrong and right all at the same time. Lindsey repeated "I love you, I love you" as I thrust in and out of her. It was like the first time, but without the awkward pauses and repositioning and uncomfortable directions – I knew what and how she liked it, when to speed up, when to slow down, how hard to suck her nipples, the way she liked me to tug her hair just enough that she had to look into my eyes as she came. Once she reached climax, I stopped in order to put on protection, but she asked me not to said she wanted me in her. I couldn't deny her because I wanted to spill myself into her, deep into her, make her mine. Claiming her entire body as mine. Just as I began to cum, I felt her tighten on me and her moaning became louder, she was reaching the peak of ecstasy for a second time.

We held each other, catching our breathe, letting reality sink in. Without a word we parted; redressing ourselves in silence, tension filled the room. I didn't regret what had happened, just how it happened, the circumstances. Funny how things look clearer once those emotions that cause your mind to feel cloudy are out of the way

"What now?" I fastened my belt, "What about Glenn?" For more than one reason, saying his name made me feel ill.

"What do you mean?" She was looking in the mirror to touch up her make up and untossle her hair.

"Linds, we..."

"I know! It was unbelievable, wasn't it!" She walked to me and gently kissed my lips. "I knew I missed you... but I forgot how good you are"

She was right, it was the best I'd ever had, before her and since her. For awhile, about a year after she'd left, I began to date around. I hoped that meeting someone new would fill the void that her absence created. It didn't work and I felt dirty after each date, like I was using the women that I took out... afterall, I was using them.

I placed my hands on her hips, kissed a few more times. "I'm just not sure what we're doing. I mean, how much time are you talking about here?"

"I dunno... I guess, when it feels right, I'll tell him."

"You'll break it off with him?"

"Shane, its just not that easy..." She furrowed her brow at me, as if I was annoying her by insisting she choose. "but, yea, that is the end goal. Until then, we're just going to have to keep this to ourselves"

"I don't know," I sat down on the edge of the bed, my conscious screaming at me that this was all wrong. "Maybe we should just cool off until this thing with you and him is over."

"Really?" Lindsey sat next to me, placed her hand on my leg and laid her head on my shoulder – we both looked straight ahead. "I don't know if I can give you up, Shane." She knew she had me... right then, wrong or not, I would be with her. "But, just to keep things looking right, I think it would be a good idea if you went out with Ashley."

"No way!" I looked at her as if she were crazy.

"Listen, when you stormed off like that, the girls immediately figured out that you had a thing for me... even though I told them we were friends and that I was meeting you up with Ash. I can't have that kind of suspicion floating around Glenn's friends." That made since, as much as I didn't want to admit it. "So if you were to take her out on a couple dates, seem interested in her, that will end any gossip that your blow up this afternoon has caused, and we'll be in the clear"

I didn't like the idea – using her friend as a pawn to ward of any suspicion seemed terrible – the thought alone was unsettling, but if taking this woman out a few times would help Lindsey and I make it out of all of this together then I was willing to do it. Before we went our separate ways, we exchanged phone numbers and email addresses. She also gave me Ashley's number along with instructions to call her as soon as I could, "we have to put any suspicion to rest as soon as possible" She said. I walked most of the way home. Being able to feel the love that I had carried for Lindsey in the back corners of my soul made me feel as if I'd won. I'd won against the odds – against the universe. I wondered when and how I would introduce Emily to the grown up version of herself. I wondered how Emily would feel once she realized that Lindsey was her mother; she didn't have "just a daddy" anymore. As much as I wanted to go into Emily's room and wake her, spilling everything to her, I knew that this would have to play out very slowly. Popping in and declaring that she suddenly has her mommy back would be too much for my little Emily to handle.

In my head, I imagined what the holiday's would be like. How nice it would be to watch Lindsey and Emily playing together at the park, or peeking in on them while they play dress-up and do each others hair and make up. Lindsey was the answer to my prayers – I'd always known that. For so long I believed she was dead. Well, no one had ever told me she was dead and I had no reason to think that some sort of fatal harm had come upon her – it was just the only way that I could wrap my mind around it. Telling myself that Lindsey was dead helped me move on. Sure, it is a dark thing to imagine, but you do what you have to do to put yourself back together once you've been shattered the way I had been. Getting into a cab to take me the rest of the way home, I had to stop myself from wondering where she'd been, what'd she'd been doing. I told myself that it didn't matter – she was back with me now and that was all that carried any weight – the here and the now.

"Where have you been?" Gracie asked me as I kicked off my shoes in the foyer. "Mom is really mad!"

I smiled at my niece, she was always looking out for me by giving me a heads-up when I had pissed Keri off. "What did I do now?" I asked her playfully, then kissed her forehead and went into the kitchen.

It was well after 7pm. Though I'd left the hotel just before four oclock, I spent quite a while walking and thinking, imagining our new life. I could tell by the way she was standing that she was indeed mad.

"Hey Ker" She was awfully dressed up?

"Hey Shane" She stretched out the words, "Nice to see you have made it back!"

"Sorry I got caught up."

"Yea, so you did." Keri turned to face me, "I had plans tonight, ya know. I'm not your maid or your nanny..."

"Keri I am really sorry, I..."

"Yea yea, whatever Shane. Look, I deserve a bit more respect from you! I take care of your house, do your laundry, take care of Emily, run your errands. The least you can do is call me if your not coming home anytime soon. I have a life, too!"

"I agree, I am sor-"

"You know, its not like I do a lot anyway. And I told you that I had a date with that guy from the coffee shop days ago!"

"I totally forgo-"

"I can't believe you just skipped out! Either way, Emily is in bed. Your dinner is in the microwave." She tossed the dish towel on the counter top, "Im gonna shower and go to bed."

"I was with Lindsey" A huge smile crossed my face. I couldn't hide how happy I was. Keri's reaction was not quite the same.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" She whispered, as if being with Lindsey was taboo. "What in the hell are you thinking? After what she did to you and Emily?"

I tried to explain to her that Lindsey was sorry and that she loved me and Emily, but she wouldn't listen. Keri made it very clear that she thought I was an idiot for being with her – an even bigger idiot for planning on Emily and Lindsey meeting. I made sure to let Keri know that she had no business imputting her opinion because it didn't matter. After she went to her room, fuming, I felt bad for the way I acted. I had just hoped that she was going to be happy and supportive. Excited even. I planned on apologizing to her once she got out of the shower, but I'd also ask for her support not judgement. I loved Keri for being such a great sister, and for helping me out the past few years. I hoped she would come around to the idea of me and Lindsey.

I went to sit down in the living room with Gracie when I felt my cell buzz in my pocket.

Lindsey Sharp: Hey sexy! :X

It hadn't been but a few hours since we made love and I already wanted to do it all over again.

Me: Hey, I miss you already.

Lindsey Sharp: Miss u 2. How did the call to Ash go?

Me: Haven't called yet. What are you doing?

Lindsey Sharp: Having dinner w/G and his fam the Ivy. U need to call her asap!

Me: The Ivy? WOW, are the plates made of diamond and platinum? Lol

Lindsey Sharp: Ha. Call her.

Me: Ok

Lindsey Sharp: Txt me when your done. Loves ya! Tell her you want to take her to The Ivy!

I didn't want to call her. But I felt like I had no choice. I had to make things look kosher between Lindsey and I. Otherwise, she may lose her Gallery, or I might lose her. Scrolling through the phone book I found her name and stared at it for awhile – Ashley Howell. Normal sounding name. She was pretty – very attractive actually, but who wouldn't been with a million dollar husband to pay for any plastic surgery you may want. Not to mention the clothes, jewelry and purses that women like her stocked up on. Women like that probably spent my yearly salary just on their shopping. I tried to picture what she looked like this afternoon, if she was decked out in expensive garments, but I couldn't really remember any thing about any of Lindsey's friend – I was too confused to pay much attention and too captivated by my beautiful Lindsey to notice them.

"Hello?"

I cleared my throat – a nervous habit I've had since I was a kid. "Ashley?"

Awkward pause, "yes, this is Ashley"

"Hey, it's Shane Gately. Lindsey Sharp's friend. We met this afternoon."

"Oh yea, hi!" Her voice seemed to lighten. "I thought I had scared you away!" Ashley laughed.

I cleared my throat again, "No, uh – actually I got kind of pissed off when I figured out what Lindsey was doing. Setting me up I mean. She didn't tell me about it at all and I'm not much for surprises."

"I figured it was something like that. Not to mention her friends were being a little obnoxious"

_Her friends?_

"I'll leave that one alone" I joked. "But if you are interested, I'd really like to take you out to dinner sometime."

Ashley laughed again, she had a great laugh. I have always liked a true, honest laugh.

"You aren't going to run out if the waiter surprises you with the wrong order or something, are you?" She teased and made me laugh, helping me feel a little more relaxed.

"Well, ya know... I can't promise that, so maybe we should go somewhere nice in hopes of ensuring we get good service, How about The Ivy. Are you free tomorrow night?"

"Wow, the Ivy. That's a little out of my game" Ashley sighed. "I'd love to have dinner with you, but how does TGIF sound?" She giggled a bit. "I promise to check your plate before you get it in case its wrong!"

I was pleasantly surprised by her. How The Ivy was out of her game, I wasn't sure. But either way, TGIF was more my style anyhow. Just the thought of going to the Ivy with a woman I was using as a cover-up while having an affair with an engaged woman was too much for me. I was more confident in my acting skills at a place like TGIF.

Once we hung up, I sent Lindsey a text.

Me: Done. We are going out tomorrow. TGIF 7:30

Lindsey Sharp: Great job!

As I began to reply, Keri came into the living room and asked Gracie to get a shower and head to bed. Gracie, sleepy and rubbing her eyes, got out of the oversized armchair that she was curled up in and headed toward the bathroom with Keri in tow.

"Keri" I called

She turned around. Didn't say anything, just looked at me. Gracie closed the bathroom door behind her.

"I am really really sorry about I spoke to you, and I'm really sorry that you missed your date on my account." I could see her loosen up a bit. "But I love Lindsey, we're going to make this work. I need you to support me in this."

"Shane I just think its a bad idea, Emily is so little and can get hurt very easily."

"I know, I know – I've thought about that." Keri looked so much like my mom at that moment, kind of felt like my mom too. "We're going to take it really slow. I haven't even decided when they should meet. But it's going to be awhile."

"I hope you don't get hurt again, Shane. You deserve better."

I hoped I didn't get hurt again too.

I dreamt of her that night – I recalled our encounter on the hotel desk over and over. I woke up yearning for her. Rolling over and unwrapping myself from the thick blue sheets, I grabbed my cell phone from the night stand and tried calling Lindsey... no answer, voicemail: "Hey Linds, it me – I cannot stop thinking about you. I hope you have time to go to lunch today, because I don't know if I can make it through the day without kissing you." I knew I sounded like a douche, but I loved her so much that things like that would spill out of my mouth without me putting much thought into it. "Give me a call. I love you"

I decided to lay there for a bit – Keri, Gracie, and Emily were already gone – the empty house seemed dormant but my body was burning with energy – so much energy that I had to be still in order to control it. I smiled to myself, laughed at how I was acting much like a teenage girl. I closed my eyes and pictured a canvas with a storm raging upon its fabric. Dark shades of blue and gray, swirling and crashing and blending into one another, smothering a base of crystal-like pearl. I felt sympathy for the pearl; I felt a relationship with the pearl.

Hours later, I stood in front of a finished painting – the first completed work of art that I had completed in a very long time, too long to recall exactly how long it had been. I felt as if I were floating, weightless without the dark storm that I successfully projected from my body onto the stretched fabric. When the girls came in the house, whispering to one another since Emily had fallen asleep on the way home, I knew I looked like a wild man. I hadn't brushed my hair, ate breakfast, or put on a shirt before I gathered all of my tools and started painting. I was a little bit sweaty, had dark splotches of paint dried across my arms and torso. After Keri took Emily to her bedroom, she came into what had been a very unused den, and gasp.

"You're painting?" She asked, I could hear the joy in her voice.

I laughed, I too felt joy. It felt so good to be myself again. "What do you think?"

"Well, I think it's almost 6:30 and you are still in your pajamas!" Keri leaned against the door frame, "Have you done anything else today? Laundry, load the dishwasher, shave?"

"I mean the painting, what do you think?"

"I don't know, it's dark."

"Good. That's what it supposed to be." I looked at the painting for a long moment, wondering how I'd lived with such a depression inside of me, then realized what Keri had said "Six-Thirty?" _Ashley_! "Shit!"

It didn't take long for me to throw on a pair of jeans and a white tee shirt, shove my feet into my brown Doc Martin's and put on the olive green military style jacket on my way out of the door. Within about 10 minutes I was hailing a cab. I knew I probably looked like shit, but this wasn't a real date and there was no need to clean myself up too much. I couldn't help but wish that I had brushed my teeth, but its not like it mattered. The less Ashley liked me the better off I was – the better off Lindsey and I were, really. I spent the 35 minute ride considering being a real jerk to Ashley, that way I could be sure and squash any chance of her liking me... but it might also be a bit too obvious, I decided. I'd almost convinced myself to be a weird character, maybe do a lot of chewing with my mouth open and clearing my throat every 5 or 6 words when my cell buzzed.

Lindsey Sharp: Hey Sexy! Hot date tonight?

Me: Only if you are planning on visiting me after this meal with Ashley

Lindsey Sharp: You better be good... I'll see what I can do about that post dinner visit ;)

Me: Can't wait!

I made it to 126th and Cooper Street with about 20 minutes to spare. Now that I was semi-confident that I would be meeting up with Lindsay after the hoax of date was over, I quickly went into a corner shop and purchased one of those disposable toothbrushes and a generic bottle of Echo Red. I wasn't concerned about Ashley's impression of me, but I went into the restroom and did a quick brushing, then sprayed myself with the cologne. I checked my watch and decided to head on over to the restaurant only a block or so away.  
By the time I made it Ashley was just getting out of her cab. I was floored by how pretty she was. Not anything like I had remembered – or maybe I had imagined that she was older and more bitchy looking. She stood about 5'7, with an athletic build, and shoulder length honey-blonde hair. Wearing a pair of blue jeans tucked into brown high-heeled knee boots and a snow-white snug sweater, Ashley looked very personable and fun, like someone I would want to hang out with.

I'd imagined that she'd show up in a pair of stilettos and black dress, caked in makeup and decked out with jewels. Instead she had a pair of silver loop earrings and a small, sweet, cross hanging around her neck from a thin silver chain. Very little if any makeup.

"Hey" Ashley smiled and gave me a soft, friendly hug, "have you been waiting long?"

"No, not at all" We pulled away from each other – I noticed that my hand stayed on her lower back. "You look really nice" Suddenly I was feeling guilty for not even thinking about this date until Keri unknowingly reminded me.

"You sound shocked" She giggled – her laugh really was sweet. "I don't think I looked too terrible last time we saw each other"

"NO, You didn't –" Why was I feeling nervous, "I don't know." I cleared my throat and took my hand from her back and shoved both of my fists into my pants pockets "You just-"

"I'm kidding!" Ashley smiled and raised her eyebrows, then loosely looped her arm with mine. "Relax. Are you hungry?"

I was hungry, but my mind was racing – why was I reacting to her like this? We walked into TGIF and were led to a table by a hostess with pink and green stripes in her hair. When the hostess wasn't looking, Ashley and I looked at each other – both wondering what the young lady was thinking with such a hair do. After we'd sat down and the hostess left us with our menus, I felt my cell buzz.

"I hate to do this, but I have to check my phone" I really did feel like a jackass as I pulled the EVO out of my jacket pocket

"No it's totally fine – duty calls"

It was a text.

Lindsey Stone: I cannot wait to see you tonight. Mmm, what I'm going to do for you… just you wait!

My heartbeat raced, I couldn't wait to see her either and I was more than ready to find out what she was going to do for me. My imagination nearly took over, picturing the many different options of what Lindsey could do.

"Work?" Ashley asked

I shook my head yes, then pushed the phone back into my jacket. I had to stay focused.

"You sure are smiling big for a work text – get a promotion?"

I must have been as red as a fire truck. I gave a hardy laugh with hopes of buying a moment or two in order to get back in the moment.

"No, just a guy at work that I hate got fired" Wow I lied quickly. Ashley laughed, again that laugh was beautiful, almost musical.

"WOW, you're a mean guy!"

"No, not at all" Well sort of, here I am using Ashley in order to make it easier for me to have a sinful relationship with Lindsey. "he's just a real jackass. He deserved it." Thankfully the waiter came by for our drink order about that time. I ordered a large glass of Guinness and Ashley got tea.

"So tell me about your art!"

"Well, I paint some… but I don't make any money on it."

"Who does?"

"True. I work for a couple publishing companies as an illustrator for children's books."

"That is awesome! So you get to draw rabbits and rainbows and butterflies all day?"

"yea pretty much…" I couldn't hide the disappointment in my voice. Though I made good money, I hated telling people what I did for a living.

"Well, that's a lot better than me! At least you're doing _something_ artistic!"

"What do you do? Aren't you a teacher or something?"

"No, I used to be a teachers aid when I was working on my degree, but my bachelors is in Art History and I have a master's degree in Art Restoration." Okay, that was sexy… may not be a hot-button for most, but for me that was equivalent to most guys cheerleader fantasy. "Until a couple weeks ago I was waiting tables – then Lindsey called me up for an interview so now I'm her assistant. A lot closer to art, but not quite what I'd hoped it would be"

"Wait, Lindsey Stone?"

"Yea" Ashley sipped her tea, "that's how I met her, I applied with the previous owners to help with restoration, but she called me for this position and I had nothing else going on."

"I thought you were friends?" Why was Lindsey screwing with Ashley? Why not someone who wasn't on her fiancée's payroll?

Ashley shrugged, "I guess we are, sort of." Her voice sounded as if she didn't really believe that. "Please don't take this wrong, but Lindsey is a bit more high class than I am, and I doubt she befriends many girls like me."

Lindsey, high class – I laughed to myself.

She continued, "How do you know her?"

"Um, well…"

"Are you two ready to order?" The waiter interrupted, saving me a second time in less than 10 minutes

By the time our food came, I was well into my third glass of beer and Ashley had finished her tea and was now drinking water. I wasn't sure how it had happened, but I was feeling very relaxed and having a pretty good time with Ashley, my pawn. I'm sure most of the credit is due to the well made Irish beer, but I can't help but think that some of it was due to Ashley's laugh and her smile, and the at-ease way she sat at the table – as if she were completely comfortable in her skin. Not once do I recall her fussing with her hair, or dabbing at her lipstick. She was completely in the moment and not at all concerned with where to put her arms or how to hold her fork. I envied her of this.

My entire life I'd been awkward – larger than most of peers for as long as I could remember – being in any sort of public setting where I felt as if I had to perform would nearly give me anxiety attacks when I was a kid. That's how I found that I loved to draw. I stumbled upon the fact that doodling a Chevy Camero or a baseball glove calmed me like nothing that the pediatricians my parents had taken me to could have prescribed. Add to that the fact that I was really good, becoming an artist was all I could think about.

I was listening to Ashley talk about her experience working as a teachers aid when my cell buzzed. I knew it was Lindsey and I wondered what kind of a sexy text was waiting for me on my phone screen, but I couldn't be so rude to check my phone while this woman spoke so sweetly about children drawing themselves with huge heads and eyes and tiny little bodies – normal for kids to do she explained, as they don't have the ability to proportion things correctly at that age; the most important and obvious features are the largest.

"There was one girl, Ameka, who drew her teeth so big" Ashley laughed at the image in her head, "Like a rabbit! It's so funny to see how kids think of themselves... her teeth were kinda big though" We laughed – it was nice and I secretly wished this wasn't fake, that this conversation was not leading to a lie. "If I were to draw you like that, the way a child would, I'd think I'd make your hands the biggest"

I laughed and looked at my hands, I'd never thought they were too big for my body "What? Why?"

"I just think your hands are your most important aspect; I bet they are very talented hands" I knew she meant my hands were talented because I was an artist, but her tone almost sounded as if she could have meant something else. I cocked my head to the side a bit.

Without thinking, I responded in the same tone, "True, I'll have to show you sometime" My cell buzzed, "my art I mean"

After I paid for the ticket, we walked outside and I hailed her a cab. "This was a lot of fun!" Ashley smiled and hugged me again, a little bit of lingering hug

"Yea, lets do this again really soon – maybe this weekend?" Lindsey would be proud of me for progressing this along – plus, it wasn't too bad spending time with Ashley.

"Actually, this might be kind of weird but,"

"Are you asking me to come home with you?" I teased

She laughed hard, "No! I was just going to say that I am meeting some friends of mine at a bar on 98th to see a band – you can come if you don't have anything else to do tonight"

I had something else to do – I couldn't wait to hold Lindsey.

"Hey Babe" It sounded as if she were at a party or something – which would explain why I'd been waiting for her to answer one of my 5 text messages and 3 voicemails for over an hour and half now. "What's up?"

"I miss you, I want to see you" I blurted out. Three beers with Ashley and since we'd parted ways I'd downed 3 and a half more at the hotel bar we'd met at before. This time though, the bar was packed from huge glass window to huge glass window. The techno music was so loud that it felt as if it were affecting the way my heart was pumping blood through the veins of my body. At first it was annoying, but the more intoxicated I got the more I enjoyed the hard beat in my chest and the rattling vibration traveling from the floor and up through my legs. When I felt my phone ring, I quickly stepped into the hotel foyer, but I'm sure that I spoke louder than necessary.

"Oh, you're silly! It's late!"

"It's like 11 o'clock"

"That's late for a lady like myself to travel in such a city!" Lindsey spoke in a southern accent.

"Then I'll come to you, where are you?"

"Shane, serioulsy... I can't" She was no longer playful. The disappointment smothered me.

"Why? What are you doing?"

"I'm with Glynn at a charity thing" Of course, Glynn and his fabulous life. "He has lots of friends here and I'm working on getting some buyers to the gallery. Besides, you're supposed to be with Ashley."

"No, I was supposed to take her out and then spend the night with you."

"Shane you're going to have find something else to do because I'm busy right now, working..." She must have realized how sharp she sounded. Quickly, and in a much sweeter tone, she added "I hate it too, and I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to be a tease"

I sighed, hoping that my deep disappointment might change her mind.

"Tomorrow, I promise... mad?" She asked, I was hanging on her every word, she knew I'd be fine if she dangled the possibility of meeting tomorrow in front of me.

I was mad, but I kind of understood. "Yea okay, tomorrow then."

Lindsey thanked me for being understanding and quickly got off the phone. I tried to wedge in an "I love you", but couldn't manage to say much at all with her presumed urgency to get off the phone and the people she was with interrupting. I sat at the bar a few more minutes, my cell on the bar and my glass refilled. I replayed Lindsey's text messages in my head – was she teasing me, or was she just trying to un-nerve me while I had a play-date with her employee? And what was with that phone call? Acting like I was bothering her or expecting too much when it was Lindsey that initiated the idea of us meeting up after my date. The longer I sat there the more mad I got – the music didn't help. Something about it helped give life to my anger. I decided I wasn't going to sit at the bar any longer and grabbed my phone, paid my tab, and headed out the door.

Me: Is your offer still good?

Ashley Morgan: Offer?

Me: My plans didn't pan out... thought catching that band might be fun.

Ashley Morgan: Absolutely! We'd love to have you!

If Lindsey wanted me to spend time with Ashley, I would... afterall, it was her idea.


End file.
